Hound Dog
by Ms Trillbatin
Summary: A Supernatural Mutt hounds the boys...But is it working alone or is there a more sinsister master behind it all? My first full length fic so reveiws are greatly appreciated...please!
1. Chapter 1

**Hound Dog**

**Chapter 1**

Sam wasn't quite sure how him and Dean had become separated. Well, scratch that, he realised that whatever they were hunting had mimicked his voice, but he wasn't sure how he had been unable to distinguish his brothers voice from the fake one. They had been running through a series of pathways cut into a rocky gorge, when Dean had veered off the path behind Sam. By the time the youngest Winchester had realised his brother wasn't with him, doubled back and taken the path he thought Dean would have, the eldest Winchester was gone. That was when Sam had run ahead to where the path had forked and then as he stood, unable to decide which route to take, he had heard calls from the real Dean and the fake Dean, one coming from each fork in the road and he had no idea which was which. He'd done the sensible thing and tried to phone Dean's cell, but there was no reception. With no other choice Sam picked the route which had less shelter, meaning he was less likely to be ambushed. Now, however, as the left fork became darker and darker and Sam did not come across his older brother waiting for him, he concluded he had taken the wrong fork. Once again he had tried to do the sensible thing, the thing his Dad or Dean would have, and retraced his steps back to take the right fork, but in the heavily falling darkness he got confused and became lost, completely unarmed as Dean had all the weapons.

As soon as Dean ran off he thought he'd made a mistake. As soon as he heard the thing they were hunting mimic his voice, he _knew_ he'd made a mistake.

"Sam!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, hauling the duffel bag of weapons higher onto his shoulder, "Ignore the other voice, I'm over here!" But with dismay, he realised the fake Dean was shouting almost the exact same thing. Sam was about to walk into a trap with no weapons, thinking he was heading to safety with his older brother. Dean immediately began heading back the way he'd come, watching for Sam's tracks and yelling for his brother the entire time.

Sam cautiously rounded a corner in the pathway gorge. The sun had set completely now and the rocky terrain cast eerie shadows across the path. Suddenly there was an animalistic roar and something smashed into Sam and bowled him over, causing him to smack his head on the rocky wall, making his vision blur. Standing over him was what looked like an enormous hound, and the dangerous looking beast was currently standing on Sam's chest , towering above him and squeezing the last of the oxygen from his lungs. Sam, gasping for air, groped to the side, not taking his eyes off the fangs now inches from his face. Finally his hand found what it sought. Clasping a fair sized rock, he swung it up to make contact with the slavering beasts face, eliciting a sickening crunch. The dog ceased it's growling and snarling to yelp and momentarily dig it's razor sharp claws into Sam's chest.

"Thou shalt be punished fittingly for that, mortal!" It growled in Dean's voice. Then it jumped off and dissolved into black shadow which dissipated slowly. Gasping, his head still swimming, Sam sat up. His head was pounding where the dog had thrown him into the wall. Gingerly, he reached a hand to the back of his head and touched a large, bloody lump. The youngest Winchester groaned. He felt like he was going to throw up and he was extremely dizzy. To keep his mind off it, he glanced down at his shirt. It was ripped and bloodied along with his chest where the supernatural hound's claws had gauged at him. It was his favourite shirt too, Jess had brought it for his birthday one year. Sighing, he slowly got to his feet, gritting his teeth when the pain and nausea got too much. He refused to hurl, when he met up with Dean, he didn't want his brother to have any reason to laugh at him. Staggering, he leaned against the wall heavily, in an attempt to stop the world spinning. There was no doubt in his mind that he was suffering severe concussion and he was also pretty sure that he wasn't far off passing out either. He needed to find Dean. John Winchester had drummed it into them enough times that if they had a head injury they could not sleep unless someone was watching them carefully. He sat down, before he fell down and leant his head against the wall. His breathing was coming in short, sharp, painful gasps and if he'd had the presence of mind, he'd have realised it was because the dog's claws had practically ripped his chest open. But Sam Winchester wasn't entirely with it. His eyes kept drooping and eventually he slipped into unconsciousness, his comatose body slipping sideways until he fell to the floor, blood dribbling from his head wound, pooling on the floor.

A/N- I know its pretty short, but i'm just trying this out. I have a long-ish story in mind and it's my first full length fic so let me know if it's worth continuing!


	2. Chapter 2

**Hound Dog**

**Chapter 2**

Finally Dean came across footprints in the dusty gravely gorge pathways. He had just come off a right fork and the footprints went down the left. Dean bent to examine the prints,

"Definitely Sam's. No one else could have feet that size." He muttered before following the tracks. It was getting too dark to see, so Dean pulled out a flash light from the duffel bag, along with a shotgun loaded with rock salt. Something had lured Sam away, and Dean would be damned if he wasn't going to shoot the bastard to the deepest circle of hell.

He followed the footprints for a while, until another set joined them. Dean stopped and stared at them, worry for Sam suddenly barrelling into him. They were paw prints. Enormous ones. They looked like dog prints, but he'd never seen a mutt big enough to fill those prints in his life. He had to find Sam, the thing had lured him away purposefully and he had no weapons. He jogged along, following Sam's prints, and the dogs, all the while listening intently and scanning the surroundings. Suddenly in the gloom Dean saw something heaped at the bottom of the gorge wall. Dean cocked the shotgun and aimed it at the dark shadow he could barely make out, as slowly and quietly he made his way foreword.

"Sam or dog? Dog or Sam?" he muttered. Only one way to find out without getting close enough for a certain dog to rip your throat out, "SAM?" he called. The shadow groaned heavily. Groaned in painful Sam-like way.

"Sam!" Dean shouted and ran to the lump he could now make out as his brother. His bleeding almost unconscious brother. Sam groaned again but his eyes were shut,

"Are you awake? Wake up!" Sam did not respond. He was slumped awkwardly, and Dean realised it was because he had fallen. The older Winchester noticed Sam's shirt was ripped and darker in patches. Dean had seen enough in his life to realise it was blood. Now he looked, there was blood everywhere. On Sam's chest, on his clothes, on the rock wall he was slumped against, in his hair. Whoa, there was a _hell_ of a lot of blood in his hair, and it was pooled on the floor under him. That was a severe head injury, no wonder he was out cold. His breathing was laboured too, that would be on account of the chest injuries making it painful for him to breath steadily,

"Damn it Sam, can't you do anything without me?" Dean murmured, covering his concern as he hauled his brother into a sitting position. He did not stir as Dean leaned him against the rock. The blood on the wall matched up to Sam's head. Dean saw that the dog must have smashed his brother heavily against the rock face.

"Come on, man. Time to wake up." He slapped his brother across the face a few times. Sam winced and then forced his eyes open. Dean slapped him once more for good measure. All for Sam's health and safety, of course.

" 'm 'wake…" Sam frowned groggily, " 'S a dog, Dean."

"Yeah I know, I saw the tracks. How are you feeling, you okay there little brother?"

"Concussion…" he grunted, as he tried to stand. Dean quickly ducked under his arm and helped him up.

"We gotta get you back to the car, before that thing shows up to finish the job." Sam didn't respond and his legs were dragging.

"Try and stay awake Sammy, this isn't the time to test the beauty sleep theory…though God knows you should try it sooner or later."

"Jackass," Sam ground out, but his feet picked up a little.

Finally, breathing a sigh of relief, Dean spotted the Impala as it loomed out of the shadows. He helped Sam over, although he was walking better now, and helped him into the car.

"Mind those long freakish legs now," Dean warned,

"I have concussion, I'm not an idiot." Sam muttered as he dragged his legs over the doorframe and into the foot well of the passenger seat.

" Whatever, Dude, doesn't change the fact that you're a freak." Sam ignored him, concentrating on blocking out his blinding headache and the fact that every time he took a breath it felt like his chest was on fire. Dean revved the engine and suddenly _Sweet Child O' Mine_ by Guns N Roses blared out the speakers at full volume.

"Deeeean…" Sam growled, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth as his head pounded extra hard. Dean quickly turned the stereo off.

"Sorry, Dude," he muttered, and pulled away.

They drove out of the gorge and onto the main road. Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He had been sure the dog would come back.

"Sammy, wind your window down," Dean ordered.

"I'm fine." Sam muttered, ignoring the use of his childhood name. Dean took his eyes off the road momentarily to glance sideways at his brother,

"You can't sleep in the car, Sam, you have to wait till we get back to the motel where I can watch you properly, incase you stop breathing or whatever. So wind the window down, or so help me I'll stop this car, get out and wind the damn thing down myself."

"Fine, go ahead." Sam muttered,

"Or I could just kick your stupid ass." Dean added. The younger Winchester rolled his eyes, but dutifully wound down the window.

A/N- Ahhhh, such brotherly love! lol


	3. Chapter 3

**Hound Dog**

**Chapter 3**

Finally, they got back to the motel. Sam staggered over to his bed immediately and gingerly laid down, groaning slightly. Dean locked and secured the room, then glanced at his younger brother, a brief flash of concern ghosting over his face-the silent room allowed him to clearly hear the pain filled hitches in Sam's breathing. He made sure his voice was light,

"Let me check you over. Sort out those claw marks. You have enough trouble getting laid, without adding hideous scars to it." He joked, moving towards the first aid kit they always kept stocked. Sam may have been in pain and on the brink of unconsciousness, but he couldn't let it slide, which was exactly what Dean had wanted.

"I don't '_have trouble_ getting laid', I just…choose not to. I'm not like you, Dean, I don't have to jump into bed with every girl that smiles at me, just to satisfy my overactive downstairs brain." He replied scathingly. Dean grinned as he plonked himself on Sam's bed, removing antiseptic wipes and bandages from the first aid kit.

"Dude, you are _so_ just jealous. You know, I can probably set you up with a hot little geek-girl if you want?"

"Bite me." Sam ground out. Dean chuckled. The younger Winchester sat up slowly and lifted his shirt for Dean to clean and examine his wounds. The older Winchester looked Sam's injuries up and down, back in hunter/protective older brother mode, assessing the extent of the injuries. Sam's breathing had finally evened out and the wounds weren't too bad, so Dean cleaned and dressed them, with only a few quick hisses of discomfort from Sam as the antibacterial agent hit.

"Hey Sam?" Dean murmured, ten minutes later into the dark, as they both climbed under their damp motel blankets. His brother grunted, he was about to fall asleep so Dean needed to be quick.

"About this afternoon…It was my fault. I shouldn't have run off. I left you alone with no weapons…it was a dumbass thing to do…"

" 'S fine…sleep…" he muttered in reply. Dean sighed, he'd been a prick today, he needed to be more careful, especially seeing as this dumb mutt seemed to be specifically targeting Sam, and that was never good.

"Sure bro. Night." Dean returned. It seemed like only seconds later that Sam's breathing slipped into the regular tones of deep sleep. The older Winchester, however, knew he wouldn't be sleeping till the early hours of the morning at least. Sam had suffered a severe head injury, and Dean needed to make sure there were no repercussions of the 'stop-breathing-while-your-brother-is-conked-out-in-the-bed-next-to-you' kind.

"Wakey wakey, sunshine," Dean called as he walked out the shower, early next morning. Sam groaned and sat up in bed,

"What time is it?"

"Time you got a watch,"

"That's weak Dean…"

"Hey, I'm sleep deprived, man,"

"You stayed up all night?"

"Sure I did! What kind of big brother do you take me for? I couldn't have you dying on my watch." Sam chuckled and smiled at his brother in a way that Dean knew generally preceeded a 'chick-flick' moment, so he changed the subject.

"While you were snoring your ass off though, I did some research on your four legged friend," Sam got off the bed and moved towards the breakfast table where Dean now sat, munching a donut he had procured from god knows where, and sipping black coffee from a styrofome cup.

"Here," he said, shoving another cup towards Sam, "Just how you like it; minimum coffee, maximum crap."

"Whatever man. What d'you find?" he asked, too tired to rise to his brothers challenge as he sipped his half-caff-double-vanilla-extra whipped cream-latte.

"A whole lotta nothing'" Dean grumbled, "Natta, zip, bull, nill…nothing," he finished and Sam could detect the bitterness in his older brother's voice.

"Anything close? Demonic possession of animals?" Dean shook his head,

"Come on Dude, you know as well as I do that a Demon's not going to inhabit a lower being, when it has the pick of millions of humans." Sam sighed, remembering all too well how much demons liked to inhabit people,

"Yeah, I know. What about any talking animals? Dean snorted and gave him a look that quite plainly said he thought his little brother was going crazy,

"Don't be an idiot, Sam. What do you think we're in, a Disney movie?"

"Look it spoke to me, alright? So there has to be some legend, some myth that we can get information from!" he shouted. The younger Winchester rubbed his head tiredly, he could feel another headache coming on.

"You okay?" Dean asked. Sam nodded tiredly, though his head was pounding.

"We should go back to that gorge, see if we can pick out any clues." Sam suggested, still kneading his forehead. Dean nodded,

"Yeah, and we should talk to the locals." Sam's turn to nod.

"Okay, let me grab a shower and we'll head out." Sam moved into the bathroom. The door closed and Dean's face split into a wide shit-eating grin. A few seconds later there was a shocked yell from the bathroom and Dean snorted as Sam shouted from the shower,

"Hey Jackass! you used all the hot water!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Hound Dog**

**Chapter 4**

An hour later Dean and a very disgruntled Sam pulled up outside a church fete in the small town where they were staying,

"You wanna put on your favourite vicars costume?" Sam snapped. He was still aching from his run in with the dog and he had a raging headache. It didn't help that Dean had used all the hot water.

"Someone's grumpy," chuckled Dean,

"Fuck you." Sam snapped, rubbing his forehead, before flinging open the car door and traipsing up the church path to the open doors. The pounding in Sam's head was getting beyond a normal headache, even with concussion, which he was pretty much over now anyway.

"Language Samuel," snarked Dean, but his younger brother had stopped dead still, and couldn't hear him, "Sam?" Dean said coming to stand next to the other Winchester who had his eyes clamped shut and was kneading his temples with his knuckles.

"Sam!" Dean repeated, as his knees buckled, pitching him foreword as the pain drove him to he floor.

"_You will submit_" said a thunderous, growling voice in Sam's mind, the voice of the dog, he knew. At least it had given up Dean's voice.

"No chance! Get out of my head!" Sam spat out loud through the pain. He yelled out as the pain went up another notch. Torture.

"_Submit to my master's authority!_" But as the pain continued to increase in intensity, Sam went beyond comprehending. He shouted and yelled in agony, writhing on the floor, clutching his head and battling with the invisible enemy.

The disturbance was causing people to emerge from the church and stare at Sam who was laying on the ground and looked like he was having a fit. Dean was crouched next to his brother, shaking him, calling his name, slapping him, anything he could think of to get him back to normal. Finally Sam stilled. Dean nervously checked his pulse. It was there, a little fast, but still there. He breathed a sigh of relief. That was when he noticed the crowd of nervous onlookers, all muttering and staring at the unconscious Sam.

"He's epileptic. He's just had a fit, is all. No need to worry, I'll get him back to our place and give him a dose, he'll be fine." Dean explained to the crowd. A few of the onlookers didn't seem entirely convinced and were still muttering, but they began to move back into the church and didn't complain when Dean grabbed his brother under his shoulders and his knees and staggered to the Impala with him. Dean had hidden it well, but he was more than a little shaken up. He had heard Sam argue with something in his fit of agony. If Dean was right, then this was a hell of a lot more serious than they had initially suspected. If the hound was hunting Sam through mind control…well that was bad enough. Then when you countered in the other factor, the one that made Dean shudder with fear…He bundled Sam into the passenger seat of the Impala and then got in his own side. The music blared out as the engine started and for once he turned it straight off. He needed to concentrate, he needed to remember all the protection spells he could. This thing was powerful, Sam wasn't safe.

Dean swerved into the motel car park, just as Sam groaned then suddenly sat up breathing heavily. Then he clutched his head.

"Sammy? Are you ok?" Dean asked anxiously,

"I feel like a herd of elephants has been playing hopscotch on my head." Sam groaned. Dean smiled, at least he hadn't lost his sense of humour. Dean jumped out the car and ran round the other side as his brother attempted to climb out of the car. He went to help him out but Sam pulled his arm away.

"Dude, it was just a headache,"

"Man, don't gimme that crap…was it the hound?" Sam's eyes met his and Dean finally saw the pain, fear and weariness in them.

"Yes Dean, it was the hound." Sam didn't explain anything further. It didn't take long for Dean to snap,

"Dude!" He cried, exasperated, "Tell me what the hell happened!" Sam sighed,

"He ordered me to submit. Said my will would be broken. Usual stuff really." He shrugged wearily. Dean snorted as they began the walk across the parking lot to their motel room, going easily for Sam.

"As if, after everything that's been after us, you'd give in to some slobbering, mangy, flea-bitten mutt!" Sam looked at his brother again, seriously.

"Dean, it wasn't after me…it's master was." Dean raised his eyebrows,

"And who's it's master?" His brother asked slowly,

"I don't know for sure…but I got stuff…information through the connection." He watched Dean carefully for a reaction to the next statement, his brother already seemed extra shaken up about something,

"It's master is a demon." Dean's eyes widened slightly and his jaw tightened, but he was not as shocked as Sam had expected.,

"I thought as much," Dean nodded. Sam screwed up his face,

"How? And what's got you so shaken up?"

"You mean apart from the fact that a dog mentally attacked you for it's demon master?"

"You were freaked out before I told you there was a demon master," Sam pointed out, eyebrows raised. Dean was quiet as he opened the motel room door, then shut and secured it afterwards. He then turned to his younger brother, who was sat on the edge of his bed, waiting patiently to see what was bothering his usually unshakeable sibling. Dean sighed…then exploded.

"I thought you were supposed to be smart, college boy? Don't you remember where you were when the mutt got to you? Outside the firggin' church! You were on hallowed ground, Dude! Nothing should have got you there." Sam's eyes widened as he realised it was true. They may not have been inside the actual church, but Dean was right, they were on hallowed ground- inside it's protective cover.

"Sam, this thing is strong, if it's mutt can reach you on hallowed ground… think what it's master can do!" The younger Winchester nodded, a little surprised he hadn't thought of the hallowed ground implications himself.

"Okay…then we make protections, do what's necessary. Dad's journal has probably got a lot of protection…spells and incantations I can use, that I can put on me. You know, wrap round my mind? It won't be able to reach me. Then we can figure out where this supernatural hound came from, get rid of it and…and deal with it's master." Sam looked suddenly uncomfortable and Dean narrowed his eyes at his little brother.

"Spill it, Sammy." he ordered.

"What?" The younger Winchester tried to play the innocent, but couldn't meet Dean's eyes.

"Sam, I've been able to read you like a book since-" Sam raised his eyebrows, "-Ok, read you like a demon exorcism ritual, since you were about three. I know you're keeping things from me, how am I supposed to look out for you, if you do?" Sam sighed, ignoring the desire to argue with his brother that he didn't _need_ looking out for.

"Remember me saying how I got a few hints while the mutt attacked me?" Dean nodded, "Well when he spoke about the demon? His master? I got…flashes of…fire and women…screaming for their babies…" Dean ran a hand through his hair,

"_The_ demon?" he asked, barely hiding the waver in his voice. Sam shrugged,

"How am I supposed to know for sure, Dean? It's not like any of this whole saga makes sense."

"I knew it." he muttered, and pulling out his phone, he scrolled to the relevant number.

"Dad?" he said into the phone, and Sam stared at him…hard, "What I said in the last voicemail? I was right. So, listen, if you can get to the motel address I left last time…" he sighed and then hung up.

"How the hell did you know?" Sam asked,

"Only one thing has ever gone after you and not me, Sammy, and I mean why would they, when they can have this?" he asked cockily, spreading his arms. Sam rolled his eyes waiting for him to stop posturing, "Well, anyway, I called Dad when you were conked out in the Impala on the way back from the church."

"Has he…has he called?" Sam asked, looking at something on the far wall, trying to look like the answer to his question didn't bother him at all. Dean really didn't want to answer that…

"Sorry, Dude." He replied quietly, shaking his head. Sam let out a long breath,

"Figures…" he muttered, "his priorities are so screwed to hell."

"Excuse me?" Said Dean, in a voice he knew reminded Sam of their father. He was hoping it would keep him in check. No such luck.

"Come on, Dean! He leaves us to go on this crusade, to avenge Mom's death, then THE SAME GODDAMN THING threatens his son, and he doesn't even call to say, 'Hey son, I know the demon's mutt is after you to give you to his master, and you're pretty much screwed, but I'm a little busy right now. If it doesn't kill you, I'll see you in a year or so…" He said, putting on a voice that sounded remarkably like John Winchester. Dean ignored the insults to their father, in favour of the more pressing matter Sam had raised,

"You're not going to die, Sam." The younger Winchester sank back onto the bed,

"Yeah, maybe…" he muttered, unconvinced.

"Come on," Dean said, trying to make his voice sound carefree, "Let's go through Dad's journal and layer you up with spells."

Three hours later, when Sam's skin had stopped tingling, he sank back onto the bed, exhausted. Dean flopped onto his a few feet away.

"That better help, Sam, you're loaded with everything from voodoo opposition protection, to Japanese strength shower spells."

"Here's hoping." Sam murmured, "So what's next?" Dean got up and grabbed a beer from the table,

"What can we do? I mean Dad's been hunting this demon for twenty-odd years. We don't exactly stand a better chance. So, I say we sit tight until we hit some more information, or until your furry mutt friend drops by to say hello again." Sam paused,

"Yeah. Ok then."

A/N- Ok things are starting to hot up now! Thank you so much guys for reading and reveiwing! You guys are so awesome i love you all!


	5. Chapter 5

**Hound Dog**

**Chapter 5**

"You know there haven't been any more sightings of that Baskerville mutt round the town." Dean said, in between mouthfuls of trash burger. They were sat in a roadside diner, not far from the motel. Sam put down his book, and smiled at his brother,

"Baskerville's? Since when do _you_ read Sherlock Holmes? No wait…" he paused, grinning, "Since when do you _read_?"

"Bite me, Francis," he said, flicking his brother the birdie over the top of his burger, "Anyway, Dude, gimme some credit, it could have been important for this gig." Sam stared at his brother incredulously, "Ok, I watched this kick-ass cartoon about it," he grinned. Sam sighed,

"Anyway, Dean, I think, for _once_, you're probably right." Dean frowned,

"Hey, I resent that implication! I'm always right- big brother's prerogative." Sam ignored the fact that Dean had used the words 'implication' and 'prerogative' in the correct context, and the fact that he'd just assumed authority over Sam simply because he'd been born first, and got on with what he had been saying.

"Anyway, the hound hasn't been back since it came after me. I'm guessing it only attacked those people to draw us here. Now that it's caught my scent…it doesn't need to attack anyone else." Dean nodded,

"So, you wanna hightail it outta this dump?"

"Yeah. If we hit the road, we might lose it. If not…at least we get a change of scenery. Dean nodded again then picked up his strangely unused napkin and once he'd folded it up, placed it in his pocket.

"Oh well…" he muttered. The napkin had the pretty waitresses phone number on it, which he had managed to procure almost as soon as he'd sat down, while Sam was in the bathroom.

Once they'd paid their bill, they headed back to the motel, packed their few possessions in their Impala and screeched out onto the interstate.

"Where we headed?" asked Sam,

"I'm thinking we oughtta lie low for a while, so I thought we could head to Missouri's new place," Sam nodded, he had been thinking the same thing. A week ago, Dean had received a text directing them to a P.O box. At first they had assumed it was their father, even though it wasn't his number, but when they had got there it was a letter from Missouri. She had contacted them that way so she could be sure they got the letter, knowing it was how their father contacted them on occasion. The letter itself contained the usual greetings and news, but more insistently her new address in New Orleans, Louisiana, and that she was sure they'd need somewhere to lie low for a while and her's was the place to go.

"Ok, got your pants packed Sammy boy? We're going to New Orleans."

Later that night they pulled up outside Missouri's new house. It looked almost exactly like her old house in Lawrence, that for a moment Dean looked round expecting to see the house he had lived in for five years, but whether thankfully or not, it was not there.

"It's a little late, maybe we should check into a motel?" Sam asked, turning to his brother. Dean looked towards Missouri's house and was about to agree, when a light on the porch switched on and the front door opened. Missouri's silhouette framed the front door and she called out into the night,

"Come on, boys. I was wondering how long it'd take you to turn up again." Sam and Dean looked at each other and then clambered out of the car.

"You go first Sam, this woman's always bustin' my chops." Dean muttered to his younger brother.

"Dean Winchester! Get up here!" She shouted. Sam heard Dean grumble under his breath as he took the lead up the path to Missouri. The big black American woman had her hands on her hips as they stopped in front of her.

"Dean Winchester…what kind of monster do you think I am?" Dean gulped,

"No, Ma'am, I-"

"Don't interrupt me when I'm talkin' to you! I only bust your chops when you do something wrong. So mind your manners boy, and we'll get along just fine!"

"Yes ma'am," both boys answered.

"Now Dean, give me a hug." Dean stepped foreword and Missouri enveloped him in her large embrace. Sam sniggered and Dean swore to kill him.

"Don't cuss at your brother!" She snapped in his ear. Sam however, stopped sniggering immediately. She let go of Dean and opened her door wider,

"Well, don't just stand there waiting for the grass to grow!" Sam and Dean stepped into her house and were directed to the living room.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hound Dog**

**Chapter 6**

Five minutes later they all were sat comfortably with cups of tea and coffee.

"So, Missouri," Dean began, "Why'd you decide to move?" She gave him a calculating look,

"Why don't you just come out and ask what you wanna know?"

"Ok," said Dean, setting down his black coffee, all business, "I thought you were watching our old house?"

"Dean-" Sam began to interrupt, but his brother ignored him,

"After what happened there, you were supposed to-"

"First off, young man, I was not 'supposed' to do anything. Secondly, nothing will go on in that house without me knowing about it. And thirdly, where'd you get off telling me what I should and should not do? Now hush your mouth, or I'll give you that spoon whacking we talked about last time you visited!"

"I tried to warn you," Sam smiled, shaking his head. Dean sent him a look that would curdle milk. The youngest Winchester then turned to Missouri,

"I'm sorry we just turned up, we know it's late…we can stay in a motel…" Missouri shook her head immediately, so Sam continued,

"Thank you. We've run into a little trouble, well, a lot actually…" he said, rubbing his forehead tiredly. Missouri put a hand on his back,

"Go on, child. Tell me, what's going on?" Missouri prompted, Sam sighed,

"We went to investigate a supernatural hound. It had been attacking people from a local town and then vanishing before their eyes." Dean nodded then took up the story,

"Basically, it turns out Fido is after Sam. It's a slave of the Demon that killed our Mom and Sam's girlfriend." The younger Winchester's face tightened at the mention of Jess's fate, "Man's best friend is dog, Demon's best friend is Supernatural hound," Dean muttered dryly. Sam took up the narrative,

"I've got a few spells covering me, to stop the hound attacking me through mental connections again," Missouri nodded, she didn't even flinch at the fact that a dog had attacked Sam's mind and that Sam now had spells on him,

"I picked them up an hour before you arrived," She explained. Sam smiled,

"At least we know they're strong. So anyway, this dog is trying to force me to submit to it's master." Missouri looked thoughtful for a while, then spoke,

"I guess you'll just have to stay here for a bit then, won't you? Lie low until you can figure out what to do about this pup of yours." Sam let out a sigh of relief,

"Thank you, Missouri." he muttered.

"Yeah, thanks. We needed somewhere to stay, Sam needed somewhere…" Dean said, almost uncomfortable in a moment that was nearly 'chick-flick'. Missouri knew Dean was worried about Sam, she could feel the concern rolling off of him in powerful waves. Heck, she was worried for him too. The youngest Winchester had been through a lot, seen a lot of fights and hardships…and this looked like it could be one of the worst.

The next few days were of relaxation and research but still they could find no information on the supernatural hound. Sam was pretty sure this thing had no myths attached to it. If the Demon sent it to do a job, he suspected it would get it done without leaving someone alive to tell the tale. That didn't exactly bode well for him. Dean was going crazy with boredom. They had agreed they should stay in the house as much as possible. Missouri's home was extremely well protected and they were sure the hound wouldn't be able to get to them, even if it did know they were there. It was 8 o'clock in the evening and Missouri had gone to visit a friend of hers who was ill. Sam was currently trailing through websites looking for information on Supernatural hounds, but coming up with more and more ridiculous results. He'd had enough of reading about one Portuguese woman who claimed her poodle had rose up on it's hind legs and asked for a cup of tea and a slice of toast. Dean was currently pacing up and down the living room in which Sam was sat. He was bored out of his skull, there was absolutely nothing for him to do! He had added a few curse words in that thought for effect. He glanced at Sam who was sitting, relaxed, playing on his little geek-boy computer. He'd be fine, Dean assured himself mentally, what could possibly happen? That was one of the worst mistakes of Dean's life.

"Hey Sam?" his brother grunted to show he was listening but didn't tear his eyes from the laptop screen, "I'm going to that bar down the road for a beer. Don't leave the house, ok?" he asked, grabbing his jacket from the sofa. Sam pushed the laptop off his knees and stood up,

"Do you think that's such a good idea?" Sam asked doubtfully,

"Dude, come on! I haven't left the house in three days, I'm going insane here! We haven't heard jack from that dumb-ass mutt. I seriously think it's crawled back to wherever it came from, and it wasn't even after me anyway!"

"Ok, Ok!" Sam shouted before Dean could get up some real steam, "Go on, go! Just don't get back too late, ok? Please?" Dean's face split into a massive grin,

"Sure, Sammy, anything you say!" The younger Winchester smiled to see the happy grin on his brother's face, then sat back down with his laptop. Dean pulled on his jacket, checking he had his phone and wallet,

"Stay in the house though, Sam, Ok?" He paused until he got a reply,

"Yeah Dean, I have no wish to watch you hit on every woman in a five mile radius. I'll stay in the house." he sighed.

"Good. I'll be back by midnight," and with that he strolled out the front door and into the night, unaware that two yellow eyes were watching him from the darkness.

A/N- Dean i love you soooo much, but what the hell are you doing! Don't be scared people...well not too scared anyway. mwahahahah


	7. Chapter 7

**Hound Dog**

**Chapter 7**

Dean thought he'd done quite well, he'd got eight phone numbers and a request for a rendezvous down the alley behind the bar, which he'd had to decline because it was five to midnight. He was strolling back from the bar in the dark, when he heard a scuffling noise down an alley from his left. He stopped, his hunter senses shouting at him, and peered down into the darkness. He cursed himself for not bringing any gear with him, no shotgun, no holy water, not even a god-damn torch!

It all happened pretty quick, too quick for Dean's alcohol soaked system. A huge hound leapt out of the darkness and bowled Dean over, as he fell, he hit his head spectacularly on the road and his world plummeted into nauseating darkness.

At ten past midnight, Sam was starting to get annoyed. He could just picture Dean leaning over the bar and charming the barmaid, cursing Sam mentally for forcing him to return early. He shut down his laptop and was plunged into darkness, but he couldn't be bothered to get up and turn on a light. He sank into the darkness and the silence, with only a vague irritation, now mixed with concern, towards Dean, nibbling at his consciousness. Suddenly an eerie howl rent the air, a sound that sent a shiver up Sam's spine. He stood up as the loud howl echoed again, and he realised with a panicky jolt that it was outside. He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled Dean's number. It rang…and Sam heard the ring tone from where he stood. If Dean's phone was outside…then so was Dean. Sam's heart thudded against his chest and he went cold all over, sweat prickling at his brow. How could they have been so stupid? It was such an obvious way out for the hound, kidnap the brother of the victim. Sam moved slowly to the window and peered out. There it was, enormous, threatening, sitting stone still on the lawn of Missouri's house. He was glad she wasn't home, the hound may have got her instead. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, what he had been dreading seeing materialised under the dog's enormous claws. Dean. Ragged and beaten. He wasn't moving either. Sam hoped he was merely unconscious. The younger Winchester realised he was still dialling Dean's phone, so he hung up and put his cell down. The supernatural beast threw it's head back and howled again, revealing it's enormous teeth, which seemed to glow in the moonlight.

"Dean…" Sam muttered, and moved to the front door, which he opened, shivering as the cool night air ruffled his hair. He was still under the protection of the house as long as he didn't cross the boundaries, and he knew the protections Dean had placed on him from their Dad's journal would stop a mind invasion, as long as the hound didn't have physical contact. The dog obviously knew this and had purposefully hunted Dean for 'leverage', for an easy catch. He'd get it too.

"I suppose you want me to surrender? What happens if I don't?" Sam asked, knowing the answer anyway. The hound raised a paw, and with a stealy twang, four enormous three-inch claws shot out. The hound then lowered them to within an inch of Dean's exposed neck. The message was as clear as the claws on the mutt, and Sam immediately knew how this would play out, there was no other way. He couldn't risk shooting the dog. If he reached for the gun that continually resided near the door, the dog would realise too quick what was planned and Sam would lose his brother forever.

"I suppose you want a trade?" The mutt didn't answer, but he didn't need to…it was obvious…the only way. Sam sighed, he had known this would happen, he had felt it. Ever since the hound had attacked him, he knew it wouldn't rest until it had him. What was worrying him more was his fate when the demon got hold of him. He couldn't help his mind wandering back to the night in the cabin when the demon had possessed their Dad. They had all been so powerless, weak to stop it doing whatever the hell it wanted with them. Fear gripped Sam, but he ignored it. He knew there was no way out of this one. Slowly Sam pulled out his cell phone. The dog growled but didn't do anything else. Dean's phone rang out into the night as he dialled it. He waited until it went to voicemail and then left a message that he knew would haunt him and his brother forever.

"Dean…I hope you get this when you come to, right now, you're unconscious under the hounds claws…and quite frankly you look like shit," he chuckled but it was forced and sounded fake. He couldn't keep the fear out of it either and knew Dean would pick up on that immediately. Sam paused unsure how to continue, to say everything he felt, but as the hounds growls grew in intensity and the scales started to tip against Dean, Sam knew he'd have to hurry,

"I know you hate chick flick moments," he continued, his voice cracking under the pressure, "But…urrgh…look I have to do this, I can't risk losing you, man. You're my brother…my family. I love you, bro. Thanks…for everything. You've always got my back, and especially after Jess…thanks Dean…This isn't your fault, Ok? I have to do this…I can't…" He stopped and blinked the tears from his eyes, "Maybe I'll see you soon, ok? Tell Dad I love him, despite what happened. Make sure you find him, Ok?" He then hung up and pocketed the phone. He didn't think he'd have the opportunity to use it, but he couldn't let his only chance slip away. He took a deep breath then stepped off the doorstep onto the unprotected front lawn.

A/N- Oh God Sammy! Lol, i think i may be a little too close to this story...and the people in it...Anyway thanks for sticking with this, i reckon i'm about half way through but its hard to tell because I'm now into the 'unplanned' domain. Thats a fancy way of saying i have no friggin clue how things are going to happen and in what order! Sorry this chapter is a little short, but i just love the cliff hanger!


	8. Chapter 8

**Hound Dog**

**Chapter 8**

It happened faster than Sam had expected. The dog immediately leapt off of the prone form of Dean. In two strides the dog had crossed the lawn and was flying through the air at the youngest Winchester. He instinctively threw his arms up to lessen the damage but he knew if he survived this he'd be beat to hell anyway. The dog smashed him to the ground. It then had what it needed, physical contact. Sam felt all his barriers break as the hound forced it's way into his mind and took control. Sam stopped struggling as the physical struggle gave way to a mental one. He could feel tendrils of the mutts consciousness forcing it's way into his. He kept forcing them out, but every time he beat one back, two more replaced it. In the end his consciousness was smothered by the dogs and he was no longer in control of his body. And he was in pain too. Now that his consciousness was trapped, his mind was confined and it fought continuously, futily, to regain control, each failure resulting in a spike of pain. Sam felt his body stand up, saw himself follow the dog, follow him willingly to his doom.

Dean finally opened his eyes, realising immediately that he was outside somewhere and everything ached, predominately his head.

"It's a long time since I've had a hangover this bad," he muttered, as he sat up. That was when he noticed the claw marks all over his torso and limbs. He looked like he'd been dragged half a mile, and as he remembered the events of the night before, he realised he probably had been. That was when panic set in.

"Sam!" he cried, jumping up, despite the aches and pains he was suffering. He ran to the house and saw immediately that the front door was open. He raced into the living room, yelling for his brother, but he was met with silence. He knew how things had happened. That damn mutt had gotten a hold of him and Sam had traded his life for Dean's as the hound knew he would. The older Winchester yanked out his cell phone and was about to dial Sam's number when he saw there was a voice message. Slowly he placed the phone to his ear and listened to the message Sam had left, the message said sorry and goodbye. Dean felt his eyes well up, but also the anger that was boiling in him was second to none. The demon and it's stupid mutt had taken the most precious thing from him- his brother. He had failed. He had let Sam get taken by the thing that had threatened him from the shadows his whole life. As realisation struck, Dean's cell phone slipped from his grasp and his knees hit the floor. Slowly the older Winchester let all the grief and anger he'd kept bottled up for twenty-seven years escape him. He sobbed brokenly for his little brother who was suffering god knows what, because Dean had wanted a drink at a bar.

But he wasn't a Winchester for nothing, his brother didn't call him a stubborn asshole for nothing. He wasn't about to give up, he'd track Sam and the hound and get his brother back before they reached the demon, and he'd put a bullet between the mutt's eyes as a reminder that you don't mess with a Winchester.

Dean dialled Sam's number. After a few rings it diverted to voicemail as the older sibling expected it to. Sam's voice directed him to leave a message and for a moment he could almost pretend his brother was there and safe, then the beep came and Dean had to leave his message.

"Sammy…I hope it's you listening and not that damn dog…either way, I want you to know…I'm coming for you. Don't give up, Ok Sam? Whatever happens your brother's not gonna let anything happen to you. You know that right? Stay strong man, I'm coming for you…and I'm sorry. Love you, bro…" he said, hanging up. He knew who he had to call next, and he was dreading it. He scrolled down to the number and dialled, expecting it to go straight to voicemail. For once, John Winchester picked up his god-damn phone.

"Dean?"

"Dad?!" Dean was beyond shocked. It had been months since he'd spoken to this father, since he'd left the hospital after the incident at the cabin, with only a short goodbye, a promise he'd find the demon and a warning not to contact him too often.

"What's going on, son? Are you still at the motel? I'm on my way. Is Sammy alright?"

"Dad-" Dean choked. He didn't want to say it out loud. To hear the panic and anger in his Dad's voice would make it all real.

"What?! Dean, talk to me!" He ordered,

"The hound got Sam last night. I have no idea where they are, except that they're on the way to the Demon." There was silence, then,

"Shit, Dean! How'd this happen?"

"I'm sorry, Dad! I left the house and the dog got me, Sammy traded himself to keep me alive."

"How the hell did you get yourself taken by a damn dog, Son?" John Winchester asked, and Dean could detect the concern and anger in his voice. This was the bit he was dreading.

"I…went to a bar. I had no hunting gear with me."

"You went to a bar… You went to a bar, when you knew that the Demon was actively hunting your brother?" Dean could easily hear the disappointment in his voice. They both knew he'd screwed up,

"Yes sir." Dean answered. There was silence as John Winchester tried to get his various emotions under control. Dean registered the sound of driving. His Dad was on his way. That made him feel better. Soon his Dad would be calling the shots and Dean wouldn't be able to screw up anymore.

"Where are you?"

"Missouri Moseley's house. It's number four, two,-"

"I know where it is." His father interrupted abruptly, "Stay in the house, don't go anywhere. I'll be there in about three hours. Sooner if I can."

"Yes sir."

"And son?"

"Yeah Dad?"

"Be careful,"

"Yes sir. You too." They both hung up and Dean moved back into the house and shut the door.

A/N- Ooh John Winchester is gonna be MAD!


	9. Chapter 9

**Hound Dog**

**Chapter 9**

Dean was going crazy stuck in the house, when Sam was out there doing god knows what, but he didn't dare disobey his father, especially as it was his fault Sam was missing in the first place. It had been two hours and forty three minutes since John Winchester had phoned, when there was a knock at the door. Actually more a few John Winchester trademark thumps. Dean jumped up and opened the door, shotgun in hand, to reveal his weather beaten father.

"You may as well put that down. Won't do much good now." He said, in his deep gravely tones. Dean had secretly always hoped he would get a voice like that, it was such a hit with the ladies.

"Dad…" Dean murmured, as he dropped the shotgun and they hugged tightly,

"You Ok, Dean?" John asked, holding his oldest son at arms length, "You look a little worse for wear," Dean shrugged it off,

"I'm fine. Are you Ok?"

"Of course," he smiled tiredly, "I lost track of the Demon though, otherwise I'd have just waited until the hound turned up with Sammy. I got a little sidetracked with a bitch of a hell house spirit in Canada." He explained wryly, all business. John Winchester explaining his actions was rare, and Dean figured he was feeling bad for not being around when his boys needed him, and for losing the demons trail when it really mattered. He had a point, said a voice remarkably like Sam in Dean's head. He ignored it. This wasn't the time for a family blame game.

"So, how do we find Sam?" Dean asked, hoping his father had a plan, because he certainly didn't. John Winchester sighed,

"We need Missouri, she's on her way back. Even then we'll be cutting it fine." Dean was desperate to know more. Ever since he had carried Sam from their burning house, he'd been Dean's responsibility, not their Dad's. But he held himself in check, John Winchester knew how to hunt, and this was the most important hunt of their lives.

Sam was in a world of pain and anger. He couldn't escape. He'd lost count of the amount of times he'd tried to fight his way back to control of his own body, but the hound was too strong. He could feel his body tiring, but it was pushed relentlessly. He'd been walking continuously for hours and hours, without food or water, through the cold night. He wondered what Dean was doing. He hoped he'd got some idea of how to find him, but he sure as hell couldn't think how that would be. It was then that he sensed his phone go off. It wasn't that he actually heard it…or maybe he did, but he wasn't in control, if he was hearing it ring, it was only because the hound didn't care enough to block that message reaching Sam's consciousness tucked away in the back of his mind. The mind that the hound was now inhabiting, as well as it's own. He had no clue where he was. The dog was blocking his sight every time they approached a road sign. However he knew they were heading north east because of the stars. His Dad had taught him well. If he had been in control of his respiratory functions, he would have sighed. He would never admit it, but he missed his Dad. His consciousness cried out as another spike of pain lanced through him. It was that strong that it would have bought him to his knees had he been in control. He ignored it and continued his dangerous spiral into depression. He missed his Dad, so much. Ever since the cabin, he had wondered if things between them could be fixed. They had not been too bad during that month or so. The major fights had been worked out, and future ones had been averted, and although they drove each other crazy, the family bond was still there. Buried beneath layers of hurt and anger, but still there, and still strong. He guessed it had been Dean that had phoned him earlier and that was worrying. He had been walking too long for Dean to catch him now, he'd hoped his brother would wake up sooner but the hound had obviously knocked him out good and proper. Sam hoped, despite his own dire situation that his brother was ok.

"Christ Dad!" Dean shouted suddenly. John Winchester slowly turned his head to look at his son.

"You wanna explain that to me, Dean?" John asked in a steely voice. Their nerves had been fraying for ages, waiting for Missouri to arrive home. They had been sat in silence, but Dean had suddenly stood up, unable to take the tension. John also stood up as Dean ran a hand through his hair, not able to keep still,

"Will you tell me what the hell you're planning? We're just sitting here doing nothing! We need to be out there following trails, looking for clues, asking around!"

"You think it's that easy?" John shouted, moving to stand right in front of Dean, "You think it's a matter of following footprints? Damn it, Dean! They cover their tracks, they use minions to do things like that! They have people everywhere!" Dean was angry now, angry at the demon, angry at the hound, angry at Sam for just trading his life, like Dean was more important, like Dean should just forget about it and move on and live a happy life without Sam, knowing he had traded his life for him. But most of all he was mad at his Dad. The way he saw it, if John Winchester had been there, this wouldn't have happened.

"If you had just been here…" Dean muttered angrily. John Winchester's eyes flashed with rage,

"What did you just say?" He whispered ominously, but Dean was beyond heeding warnings,

"I said, if you had just been there!" He shouted, "If you hadn't run off and left me to this on my own, none of this would have happened! Sam would be here now, safe with me!" He yelled into John Winchester's face. The elder hunter paused before grabbing the front of Dean's shirt and slamming him into the wall behind them. All credit to Dean he did not even flinch, he just kept that disgusted angry look on his face as his father leaned against his shoulders heavily,

"Don't you dare say that! Don't lay the blame at my door! I told you to look out for him! It was your responsibility to look out for your brother, and you failed! All because you wanted to get pissed and drink it up at a bar with some woman!" John Winchester shouted in his face. They both stared at each other, as pain flickered across both their faces. Breathing heavily, John let his son down. Dean stared at the far wall, his eyes glazed over,

"You're right Dad. It's my fault…" Dean whispered. John Winchester rubbed his hands across his face, and turned his back on Dean, so that his son wouldn't be forced to watch if the tears leaked out and he lost control,

"No Dean, it's not, you can't-"

"No." Dean interrupted in a stronger voice, "No, you're right. Its all my fault. Everything. We have to get him back…" John turned back to face his son. Apologies and guilt trips could wait till they had the missing link in their chain back.

"We'll talk about this later, son." John said in a softer voice and placed his hand on Dean's shoulder. The younger of the two hunters looked up into his eyes at the action and John could see the wealth of emotion hidden in their green depths; guilt; pain; grief; anger; panic…Dean gave a dry sob and put his hand over John's,

"I just want Sammy back, Dad…" John sighed,

"Me too, Dean. Me too…"

A/N- Good old Missouri...


	10. Chapter 10

**Hound Dog**

**Chapter 10**

There was a clatter as keys turned in the lock of the front door and Dean and shot up quickly, praying Missouri was ready for what she had to do.

"You boy's here?" She asked, coming into the dark hallway. She knew they were, but it was always polite to alert them to her presence. They were hunters though, and were already making their way to her from the living room.

"Missouri…" Dean murmured, not really sure what to say. She smiled at him.

"Don't worry, honey. Sam'll be fine. John…" She said, by way of greeting, turning towards the older hunter,

"It's good to see you." He said gruffly,

"You too, sweetie. Don't worry," she added, before he could ask, "I've got all the stuff with me. We'll get started right away."

Ten minutes later, Missouri was lost in a trance, candles and poultices dotted around her in what, to Dean, seemed a random pattern, but by the careful way she had deliberated over setting them out, he knew he was just not capable of seeing it. Dean had already been snapped at several times by his father to sit still, but he couldn't help it, he was continually on edge. He knew John was too, or his father wouldn't have snapped at such an insignificant thing as Dean twitching in a chair. Missouri had been in her trance for about five minutes now, and she had warned it could take up to an hour to locate Sam. She was using her physcic abilities to detect his. Dean found it strange, in the detached part of his brain, that everyone was using and discussing Sam's 'abilities' as though it was normal. In actual fact the only reason people were not all uncomfortable with it was because Missouri was a physcic and because the dire situation could afford no uncomfortableness. Missouri's eyebrows contracted into a frown. Dean had already attuned himself to her so that he would notice these subtle changes in her demeanour, so that he would notice if she picked up on Sam.

"Dad..." Dean murmured, without taking his eyes off of Missouri. John Winchester took his head out of his hands and glanced at his son, then at Missouri. Suddenly he stood up, just as Missouri groaned and began listing to the side. John grabbed her before she fell to the floor.

"Dean, help me." John ground out as he tried to get the woman onto the couch. Dean stood still for a moment, torn between making Missouri find his brother, and between helping her and obeying his father.

"DEAN!" John barked and Dean snapped out of it. He helped manoeuvre Missouri onto the couch and after a few seconds her eyes fluttered open.

"He..." She murmured,

"Take it easy." John said gruffly, "Just give yourself a second."

"Where is he? Did you find him? Missouri, is he ok?" Dean asked, ignoring his Father's look,

"He's...possessed. The dog...it's controlling him. I can feel his pain. It's very uncomfortable to be...possessed." Her breathing was shallow and she looked to be in a fair amount of pain herself.

"Where is he?" both Winchester's asked at the same time. Missouri screwed her eyes shut in concentration.

"He's at Sid's Diner on the interstate from Louisiana into Arkansas. I think he's heading for Missouri." Immediately both Dean and John jumped into action, Dean grabbed his jacket and his Dad's and the keys to both vehicles, John grabbed the bags of weapons that had been brought into the house.

"Will you be Ok, Missouri?" John asked. She nodded, her eyes closed, but John was facing the other way, he spun round and looked at her, "WILL YOU BE OK?" he cried, his panic was now second to none, now that he could let it run free, filling him with adrenaline. Now that he knew where his son was, now that he could do something about it. She frowned and opened her eyes but answered quickly,

"Go get your son, I just have a headache." Both Winchester's paused, "GET GONE!" she yelled, and they both jumped and launched themselves out of the door, into their respective vehicles and out onto the interstate.

Sam's consciousness was waning, it was so hard to be in constant pain and not be able to do anything about it, he was not even able to curl into the foetal position, or pound his own knuckles into his own head to stop the headache. Still he watched as if through a window as the dog controlled Sam's beat and exhausted body and pushed it further and further along what appeared to be the side of an interstate. From the direction the sun was in, and the time of day he guessed it to be, he thought he must have been on the interstate heading out of Louisiana, into Arkansas. He stored that information away in case he managed to break through the mutts defences and get his body back. The hound was still walking next to him, it's black eyes menacing and threatening, though there was nothing to scare off along the interstate, and Sam was as subdued as was possible to be. He knew Dean would be looking for him, he also suspected that Dean would have called their Dad. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that, but as long as they got him before the Demon did, he didn't really care. Up ahead he suddenly noticed a building. He knew what it was, Dean and him had stopped at them enough. It was a roadside diner, and hope flared in Sam. Someone would see him, they might be able to help! And then his brain caught up with his heart. How could anyone help? No one would suspect anything, no one would think anything strange about a young man walking his dog (even if it was up an interstate) and what could they do anyway? If anyone suspected something was wrong with Sam and tried to do something about it, the hound would just kill them. _At least it'll leave an easy trail for Dean to follow_...Sam thought to himself dryly. He felt his body slow as they reached the diner. Sid's Diner. That's what the place was called, Sam caught a glance of the sign as the Hound steered his body towards the Diner's door. Sam would have smiled. He could detect the impatience rolling off the hound, the impatience that he needed to keep his catch alive yet Sam needed so much food and maintenance.

A/N- Ha ha, poor Sammy, he needs so much maintenance…these weak human vessels….terrible. Once again reviews are soooo greatly appreciated. They make me so happy! I love knowing what you guys think about the story and about what might happen next, any ideas are appreciated too, as this story only has a general plot outline, so if there is anything you want included then go ahead and let me know and I'll see if I can work it in. Thanks again for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

**Hound Dog**

**Chapter 11**

Sam moved into the diner and walked towards the counter. He groaned inwardly as he saw the plump, smiling, kindly woman at the counter. No doubt she would try to chat with him...who knew what the Hound would do. The Mutt itself sat outside the diner, it's dark eyes staring in at Sam, haunting him. He couldn't see it, as he was steered towards the woman, but he could sense it. It was warning him not to try anything.

"Hey there, sweetheart. What can I getcha?" She smiled kindly as she wiped down the counter,

"Anything." Sam felt himself answer abruptly. The woman's smile faltered slightly at his tone, but she hitched it back up straight away,

"You want some fries and a burger? Coke?"

"That's fine." Sam's lips answered for him. _Please let her notice I'm acting weird, please let her think there's something wrong with me, call the police...anything!!!_

"Coming right up, sweetie." She said, turning and entering the kitchen. The Hound forced Sam to sit on a stool next to a big beefy man. The guy glanced at him, and nodded at him in greeting. Sam felt the Hound stare at the man through his eyes. The guy frowned at Sam,

"Somethin wrong kid?" The man growled. The hound did not answer, and Sam wondered what it would do if the man hit Sam, "Hey, I'm talkin to you!" The man said, his voice rising and his eyebrows getting lower and tighter, as he slid of his stool. The hound turned to face him in Sam's body,

"You are but a mere mortal. Not worthy of my master's attention." The Mutt said through Sam. Sam knew what was about to happen, he'd seen Dean bait blokes like this in bars to put them off games of pool. Dean, however, always had the ability to duck. The man threw his fist, quite haphazardly Sam noted, into his face. The youngest Winchester felt his body fly backward and into bar stools as his nose began spurting blood. If Sam had thought that maybe because he wasn't in charge of his own actions, he wouldn't feel any pain...well he was wrong. By a lot. He felt the pain of his (hopefully not) broken nose and the already forming bruises from when he fell backwards on the bar stools. However, he also heard the Mutt howl outside, and Sam felt hope spark in him again, the hound had felt the pain as well. Sam didn't plan it, he just reacted on instinct and started a battle with the Hound, fighting for control over his own body, fighting with renewed enthusiasm and determination. He beat back all the Mutt's consciousness before the Hound had the chance to fight back, before it could gather it's wits after the pain it was feeling. Suddenly Sam's consciousness filled his body. He knew without a doubt that he had control back so he reached straight into his pocket and pulled out his phone, dialling Dean's mobile straight away. Sam didn't even notice the man who had hit him, mutter,

"Jackass..." and stalk out the door. Sam heard his brother's phone ring as he saw the mutt slip in through the door, as the man who had hit Sam walked out the diner. The dog pounced as Dean picked up the phone,

"Sammy?!" he cried down the phone,

"Sid's Diner!" Sam shouted as the dog stood on his chest and began the internal battle of taking over his body, Sam fought it as hard as he could, as long as he could,

"We're on our way! We'll be there as soon as we can! Don't hang up, man!" Sam shoved the phone back in his pocket, without hanging up, while he still had control. Then the Mutt was back in again. Sam's body went limp and then he realised he had been pushed into the back of his brain again. He sighed mentally as the Hound climbed off him, blood dripping from his claws. _Great, more damage_...Sam moaned internally.

"Sweetie are you Ok?!" Came a startled voice. The waitress. The Hound picked Sam up and he turned to face her. Blood now only dripping from his nose. The waitress had a shocked and almost repulsed look on her face; there was a lot of blood.

"I'm fine. I must have nutrition." The woman shakily handed over the burger and fries that she had brought with her from the kitchen, then handed over the coke, placing them on the counter. All trace of a smile was gone now, and she watched him warily. Sam felt the Hound move into action and begin eating the food supplied. His movements were slow and methodical, very unnatural. Sam, however, didn't much care, he was starving, and almost literally. A few minutes later, the woman spoke up again,

"That your dog?" She asked timidly, Sam did not turn,

"Yes." he replied,

"Sorry, you can't have Dog's in here." Sam jolted mentally; he had forgotten the Hound was inside with them now. The food had just been finished so the hound merely steered Sam to stand and walked out the diner, without paying. The woman made no move to call him back for the money. _Good Riddance_, she thought, shivering slightly, as she watched the strange young man walk away with his frightening Mutt.

A/N- I would like to apologise for the shortness of all my chapters, this is the first chaptered story I have done on Supernatural and I so I'm finding it hard to make the chapters very long because I always find the perfect end to the chapter so soon. Sorry for my rambling, I'll leave you alone now….once you have reviewed of course!!!! Love you all!!!


	12. Chapter 12

Hound Dog

Chapter 12

As Dean dropped the still connected phone onto the empty passenger seat of the Impala, his hands shook. He bipped his horn at his Dad and then indicated that he wanted to pull off the road. The truck in front swerved into a lay-by and Dean saw his father climb out the truck as the Impala rolled to a stop. John Winchester walked swiftly to the side of his son's car,

"What's going on, Dean?"

"I just got a call from Sammy." John Winchester's eyes widened,

"And?"

"He didn't get to say much, the Hound took him back over pretty quick I think, but he said he was at Sid's Diner." John sighed and scrubbed a hand across his face.

"Ok. Good, at least we can be sure. If he's there now, we should catch up in a couple of hours. We'll be at Sid's Diner in about an hour and a half. We're losing time son. Why did you stop us, you could have just phoned?!" John Winchester appeared to be under a fair amount of stress.

"Because Sam put the phone back in his pocket before the Mutt could take over him again. The connection is still open." Dean handed his cell phone to his father, who immediately put it to his ear. He frowned,

"All I can hear is rustling,"

"I expect that's coz he's walking along. I'm going to leave my cell on speaker phone and then if someone says anything to Sammy, I'll hear it. We might get an idea of where they're headed and when the Demon plans to meet them." John nodded,

"Good thinking." He paused and stared at the phone a few seconds, then smiled briefly,

"He has your mother's brains..." John murmured, and then moved back to his truck. Dean climbed into the Impala, put his cell on speaker phone, and then moved out onto the interstate behind his father's truck.

An hour and a quarter later, they pulled up outside a dingy Diner…Sid's Diner. Dean opened the creaky driver door of the Impala and walked over to where his Father was locking and securing his truck.

"How do you want to do this?" He asked John. It was weird for Dean to fall into place behind his father again after so long. He had grown accustomed to be being the one issuing orders. Occasionally Sam contested them, but generally they were followed. Now he was doing the following. But if that allowed him to get Sammy back, and stop screwing up…then he would swallow his pride and step into line. John glanced at the Diner. Through the window they could see a middle aged waitress wiping down the counter. There was no one else in.

"We're just gonna ask after Sammy. He's run away from home. Family argument. We're following him." Dean nodded quickly, without a word. It was too close to what happened with Stanford a few years ago, except nobody had bothered to go after Sam that time. Sometimes Dean wondered if his Dad ever felt guilty about that…then he remembered who his Father was. John Winchester rarely regretted, never apologised…he just lived in the moment…the hunter's moment. Even now, he was hunting his target, rather than searching for his missing son. They pushed open the traditional diner door, and a bell jingled out the back somewhere. The waitress looked up and gave a small smile,

"What can I get you?" she asked, pausing in her ministrations,

"I'll get a coffee to go, please," Dean put in quickly, before his Father could order nothing but information. Dean had learned from Sam that if you helped someone else out, they'd be more inclined to just give you what you wanted, rather than having to force it out of them. Besides, he needed the caffeine intake. The waitress moved to the side slightly and grabbed a foam cup and began pouring coffee from a pot into it.

"We were wondering if you could help us. My son…he ran away from home, after he had an argument with his Mother. We're looking for him and we think he might have passed through here." The waitress looked up with a small frown on her face as she reached for a plastic non spill lid for Dean's coffee.

"Well I'll help if I can." She offered. John took out his wallet and inside, to Dean's surprise, were two photos of Sam and Dean. One when they were young…four and eight, Dean guessed, and one from just before Sam left for Stanford. They were leaning on the Impala, Dean remembered it was the day his Dad had handed over the keys to the car with a warning and then gentle clap on the back. He was suddenly overcome by an almost alien emotion for his father. Love.

"This is him, his name is Sam." John explained, leaning forward slightly to show the woman the photo. Her face clouded over slightly,

"Yeah, he was here. About an hour and a half ago," she said glancing at her watch. She looked warily at John and then at Dean, as though gauging how much to say. Dean smiled at her reassuringly,

"That's great news. Thanks. Was he Ok?" He asked, knowing the woman was holding back,

"He seemed a bit distant. Wanted food, but didn't care what, just said he needed nutrience or something? I don't know…no offence but he kinda creeped me out." She added apologetically. Dean forced a smile,

"Try living with him…" he said, trying to keep his tone light. He knew that the reason Sam had seemed weird was because he was possessed. It also worried him that the Hound had stopped to make Sam eat. He would have pushed Sam as hard and as long as possible before stopping to sustain him. That meant Sam was obviously not faring too well.

"What else can you tell us? Which way did he go?" John asked,

"Headed North on the interstate. He had a big scary looking black hound with him too. Now that scared me even more. Then this guy hit him." Both John and Dean jolted,

"What?!" Dean shouted

"Why? What happened?" John asked urgently. The waitress looked a little unnerved by the men's worry,

"He was fine! Got straight up and walked away." The two men relaxed slightly,

"Why did he get into a fight?" Dean asked,

"I don't know no one was in here except him and the guy that hit him, who left pretty soon after. I could hear talking from out back. The other guy sounded annoyed. Then I came back in and the other guy was leaving the Diner and the hound came in. Then your son stood up and had blood pouring down his face." Dean shook his head; could Sam get into any more trouble?

"And then he left?" Asked John, and the waitress nodded. "Thanks very much, you've been a great help." John handed over a few notes, overpaying for the coffee deliberately.

"See you around. I hope you catch up with your son." She called after them as they walked out the diner door. John turned to face her, a strange, haunted look on his face,

"So do I," He said quietly. The waitress watched them walk swiftly to a truck and a classic car in the parking lot and watched them swerve out onto the interstate, pondering over the strange little family. She wondered what it was about them all that made her shiver with apprehension. She wondered if they'd find the younger son and whether he'd come home or not. She wondered why the man didn't have a photo of his wife in his wallet next to his sons pictures. She wondered a lot of things that she didn't have the answers to. She wondered if she'd ever see any of them again…that she knew the answer to. _Never…_

A/N- Once agaon sorry for the short chapters, and also i'd just like to take this oppurtunity to thank everyone who keeps reveiwing my work, you know who you are and i luv you guys, so thanks!!! That's one of my favourite endings to all of my chapters so far…I think it's because it focuses on an onlooker and we get to see the story from an outsider's perspective without having to worry too much about that particular outsider and her effect on the plot. Not many more chapters to go, just a few more and we'll reach the climax…oh so sad…


	13. Chapter 13

At first Sam wasn't aware of it, but after what he thought was about half an hour of walking after the Diner, the Hound steered him off the interstate. Sam's panic escalated ten-fold. Did this mean they had nearly reached the place where he was supposed to be handed over to the Demon? Where was Dean? Sam fought again, futily against the presence in his mind, but as with his past attempts all he received was an extra large spike of pain through his consciousness. Sam's mind was wearing down, he was so tired, bone weary tired. He was getting to the point where he didn't think he would have any energy to fight back once he became in control of his body again. He would never admit it, but he was praying for his brother to turn up. Praying for it like it was all that mattered. It was becoming a mantra in his head. _Where's Dean? Come on, Dean. Hurry up, bro. Where's Dean? Come on, Dean. Hurry up, bro. Where's Dean…_The Hound took him across the scrubby landscape and headed towards what looked like a clump of trees in the distance, Sam was dreading reaching those trees. He knew, deep down that that was where the Demon would collect it's prize and that Dean and his Dad would not reach Sam before he got there.

It did not take as long as Sam was hoping for the little copse of trees to become clear enough that he could see a wooden cabin sheltered in it. It reminded Sam too much of the one they had tried to hide in that fated night when their dad had been possessed by the demon…the last time they'd had a run in with it. He knew of course this was where the demon would collect him, but what he didn't know was whether it was already there. If it wasn't, he may still have a chance, if it was…Sammy's world was already over.

The cabin was small, single room… Sam guessed, the hound stopped him outside the door. Moth eaten dingy curtains were draped across the only window, and Sam could not make out anything behind them, but that certainly didn't mean no one was home. The mutt let out a howl that ripped through the gathering evening, causing Sam's anxiety to increase tenfold…_a signal_…the detached part of his brain noted how strange it was that his brain was racing with panic and fear and adrenaline, but his body was totally relaxed and calm as the Hound manipulated it. All Sam could think as he waited at the door, was how much he didn't want his brother to turn up. _Not now…it's too late now, I don't want Dean to see what's going to happen to me…I don't want him to have that on his conscious for the rest of his life…please arrive after, Dean…please…_Sam registered the sound of footsteps and the shack door opened.

Dean could have killed himself, it was pathetic really, it was only one coffee but he was not going to ruin his car's leather seats, so he flashed his lights at his father and the truck pulled over. Dean jumped out of the car and jogged over to his father's window,

"I just gotta take a leak, Dad, I'll be quick." John's face tightened but he said nothing as Dean strode quickly over to the road side. John leaned his head back against the head rest of his seat and closed his eyes briefly. He wanted to find Sam so much, so desperately, he knew what would happen if the demon found him first and he wouldn't wish that on anybody, least of all his baby boy. Except he wasn't a baby, he was a grown man, and he'd voluntarily given himself up to the Hound to save his brother. John knew, as easily as he knew that they'd never give up trying to find Sam, that if his youngest was lost, then so was his oldest…he was literally fighting to save his entire family. John wearily opened his eyes, and then jolted in his seat. As soon as he saw it, internal walls flew up but it was not enough…the thick black cloud permeated his vision and then John Winchester was no longer in control of his own body, amber eyes reflected in the rear view mirror.

A minute later Dean was back at the window. His dad was staring out the front window, a small smile on his face,

"What's funny?" Dean asked. John turned to face him slowly,

"Just remembering when you and Sammy were younger…so much easier to manage then…" He said smoothly. A smile graced Dean's face,

"Yeah, I guess so. Dad, listen, do you have the colt? After the last time we met up with the Demon…I think we might need it. If we don't get there in time-"

"Oh we'll get there in time," John said,

"But if we don't…" Dean began again,

"Your right son," John said suddenly, "We need the colt." He leaned across and opened the glove box in front of the passenger seat, then slowly, almost reverently pulled out the antique gun that it had taken them so long to get hold of. John smiled as he looked it over carefully.

Sam watched, only his hunter training stopping him from panicking outright and screaming for an eternity inside his own mind, as the cabin door opened. A large man, bald, with back country clothing opened the door. He looked at Sam and then stepped aside. Sam felt relief wash over him, a temporary respite as he noticed that this being had pure black eyes…a demon yes, but not _the_ demon. He still had time, but for what and until what, he had no idea. Sam was steered into the main room of the shack. It was dark and dingy and smelled rotten and musty. He was forced across the room as someone stepped out of the shadows, Sam panicked but as he was turned around he saw again that this was another black eyed demon, a lower demon he was beginning to realise. _A minion of _The_ demon's…_Sam was forced to sit down against a radiator and each of the two minions stepped forwards and tied his feet together and then tied his hands to each side of the small radiator. That was when he felt the Hound's entity leave his mind…he was free mentally only to find that physically he was bound with no give. He looked round the room, still the two demons stood in front of him, looking down at him disdainfully. It felt amazingly good to be back in control of his own body, but he still felt the pain and weariness from being pushed all day, with little food and drink, his entire body ached and was beginning to shake from exhaustion, he needed to get out of here now, but he could see no opening.

"What are you going to do, just stand there?" he muttered to the demons. The one who had appeared from the shadowy corner knelt down in front of him. He looked young, not much older than Sam himself, probably Dean's age. Sam felt suddenly angry at the demon possessing the man in front of him. He had pretty much condemned the young man to death, just like Meg.

"You must be Sam…I've heard so much about you. My Father is very much looking forward to your meeting later on. I know I am." He smiled, showing pearly white teeth and his evil nature. Sam grit his teeth and glared at the demon, knowing that it was best to keep his mouth shut, something he'd learned from his brother's mistakes in these situations. Taunting a demon's family was never a smart thing to do. The demon stood up, still smiling and then turned to the other man, the bigger of the two. Sam watched with trepidation as the other demon spoke to him,

"Use the poker; you can get more force behind it with that body. I'll take the knife. Don't do too much damage; the body needs to be functional for when he arrives." Sam's heart froze inside of him, sending panic through his veins, making it hard to breathe. His brain skimmed right over the order to use a poker and a knife on him and went straight to the bit about his body…_the body needs to be functional for when he arrives_…the demon was 'he' undoubtedly, and Sam knew, because it didn't take a genius to work it out, what they had meant…the body, _his_ body, needed to be functional so that the demon could possess him, so he could have a permanent host, a host with blossoming physic abilities too. Sam struggled against the bonds that held him, but it was useless and pathetic. The thick ropes ripped at his skin and he felt blood dribbling down the inside of his wrist, irritating him. The larger of the two demons, who seemed to be taking orders from the one who had spoken to Sam, moved into the shadowy corner and returned with a 6 inch dagger with inscriptions down the blade that he couldn't read, and a long deadly looking iron poker. The dagger was handed over to the other Demon, and they moved closer to him.

"I think it's only polite to tell you, before we begin," he said, "That my name is Leo, and the big guy is Joe. Now where were we?" he asked, fingering the edge of the blade. His cold black eyes flicked up to Sam's and he smiled.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading and reviewing guys, your reviews and comments make me soooo happy, they make my day! I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!


End file.
